


Last Kiss

by noblydonedonnanoble



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/noblydonedonnanoble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only going to be once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Kiss

It was only going to be once. That's what we told ourselves. On the set of Doctor Who, in a rare moment all alone, I kissed her. And she kissed me back, we smiled at each other and she shrugged. We agreed it was just the once and would never happen again.

Sometimes, we got dinner together, just the two of us. And maybe we got a bit more drunk than we should have, which sometimes led to it happening again.

And so, for a while, our inhibitions were lowered and we might kiss some more. It was the alcohol, not us. We didn't discuss it. I never questioned it. It just was.

The season finished and we started doing other things. I didn't see her very often, and it was always in very formal situations. I thought about her; certainly not a lot, but still more than I should have. Maybe when I really missed her, I called her on the phone, and sometimes I got surprise calls from her where I could tell she purely missed me because we would sit in relative silence after a quick catch-up. This was not in any way a bad thing. I loved spending afternoons on the phone with her, each of us doing errands and wandering about the house and just talking when we felt like talking.

I realized, around this time, how little I knew about her. She told me things about herself that I probably should have learned almost immediately.

And when we started working together again, I felt that difference in familiarity.

We got comfortable again. Lounging around, we talked, and when we ate together I kept my distance from alcohol, and from her, because my life had become so very different since the last time we'd been together alone.

Shouldn't that have been enough to stop me? Yes. Of course. But the first time we kissed on stage, I wanted to do it more. And I couldn't wait for the next rehearsal. I had to do it right away.

That night she pulled me into an alcove behind the stage and asked if she could kiss me goodnight.

We started going to dinner again. I kissed her goodnight, but maybe a couple other times too just for good measure.

Our show started, and I lived in her dressing room. Sometimes, we kissed for good luck. Sometimes, before the curtain call I would pull her into the shadows for long enough to be satisfying... At least until we finished at the stage door. And then we went to dinner, and went out for drinks, and I kissed her some more.

Once, when we were curled up together on her couch, my arm around her and her head on my shoulder, I told her I loved her. That she was the most incredible person I'd ever known. She told me that she loved me too, and that she wished she understood how she loved me. I kissed her, and we avoided that topic for a long time. "Love" lost its place in my vocabulary.

I loved being on stage with her, though. When we were up there, I let Benedick feel everything for Beatrice that I couldn't. In those moments, I knew that I loved her more than I told her. I didn't need to; she could tell.

On the last night of our show, she took my hand before curtain call, squeezing tight. I pulled her into the shadows long enough to be satisfying, but I clung to her hand until the last second possible before going into view. On stage, I took the opportunity to grip her hand again. I'd never held someone's hand so tightly in my life. She had the most beautiful smile playing on her lips, and I knew it was because of me.

I ate dinner at her house the next day, and we sat on the couch together all curled up.

Remember once? Remember when that was all we were supposed to be, just that once?

But are we even a we to be?

Time had never moved so painfully fast, and we watched our calendars with something too closely resembling dread. We went out for dinner, and sometimes for drinks, and maybe once we were safely tucked into a cab I would give in to the ever-present urge to kiss her.

On the day before my wedding, we got lunch and took a stroll in the freezing cold.

I told her I was sorry I loved her. She shrugged and sighed and said it was how it was. She told me she loved me. She kissed me, long and slow, and I watched her walk away.

She sits in the audience of my wedding to someone else, with a smile on her face as genuine as any other smile I've ever seen her wear.

In the throng of people congratulating us, she steps forward and kisses me on the cheek, but misses and half gets my mouth instead. I smile, and she knows it's because of her.


End file.
